


I'm Fine, Dammit

by Dragon_in_Disguise



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Svetlana Milkovich, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Drinking, Drunk Ian Gallagher, Drunk Mickey Milkovich, Explicit Language, F/M, Fighting, Fuck is said a lot, Happy Ending, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher and Mandy Milkovich are Best Friends, M/M, Mickey Milkovich is a Good Dad, Original Character(s), Physical Abuse, Post-Season/Series 05, Protective Ian Gallagher, Protective Iggy Milkovich, Protective Mandy Milkovich, Protective Svetlana Milkovich, Svetlana Milkovich Takes Care of Mickey Milkovich, this is Mickey we're talking about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_in_Disguise/pseuds/Dragon_in_Disguise
Summary: Mickey never understood why Mandy didn't leave Kenyatta immediately after he first touched her violently - that is until he's put in the situation himself.After Ian breaks it off with Mickey, he tries to move on, landing in what he thought was a great relationship. When Ian comes back months later, everything goes to shit, and Mickey's not sure how to handle this.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Iggy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Lip Gallagher/Mandy Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Svetlana Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Yevgeny MIlkovich, Mickey Milkovich/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 207





	I'm Fine, Dammit

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this was obviously inspired by Mandy and Kenyatta's relationship, so trigger warning! There's abuse in this.

_”This is it… This is you breaking up with me?”_

_”Yeah, it is.”_

Mickey drags a hand down his face, tapping the counter for another drink. Kev fills his glass silently, eyeing him carefully. It’s been almost two weeks since Ian broke it off between them and Mickey is still a goddamn mess. He hasn’t drunk this much in months. 

He loves- _loved_ Ian. Fuck, he still does, he knows that. He did everything for that idiot Gallagher, but maybe it wasn’t enough, or what he needed. Mickey isn’t sure at this point. He’s a bit tipsy right now, moving on from beer to whiskey. 

“Still bummed out there, Milkovich?” Tommy asks, his typical wide grin on his face. The man is drunk. 

“The fuck you think?” Mickey snaps, rubbing his temple. 

“You gotta move on, man,” Kev sighs, taking Mickey’s glass from him. “I know it sucks, but Ian isn’t in the right head right now. It’s probably best you two break it off if he doesn’t want to get better.” 

Mickey’s throat tightens because he knows he’s right. Ian doesn’t want to get better, thinks that everyone is just trying to change who he is. If that kept going, it might ruin Mickey. His heart still aches at the reminder that he was cheated on. Ian was bound to do it again, he knows it. He did a fucking porno, for Christ’s sake! He’s reached the point of being unpredictable. Mickey’s not sure where that’d leave Mickey if Ian didn’t break it. 

“Fuck, I get it,” Mickey mumbles, voice a bit slurred. 

Kev and Tommy look at him in surprise. “Wait, seriously?” Kev asks, leaning against the counter. “You’re agreeing with me?” 

“Holy shit,” Tommy laughs when Mickey nods. “Guess he reached his breaking point.” 

“Fuck off,” Mickey growls, running a hand through his hair. “If Ian is gonna continue tearing himself down, well, I won’t let him bring me with him.” 

“That’s better,” Kev grins, moving to fill up a celebratory glass. Mickey waves it off, not wanting to get any drunker. “Well, what now? Find a one-nighter?” 

Mickey snorts. “What makes you think I want to fuck anyone right now?” 

Kev shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s what you did when Ian first left, if I recall.” 

Mickey grunts, not bothering to confirm or deny that. Tommy hums, nudging his arm with a smirk. “You might be in luck. I see someone eyeing your ass.” 

Kev looks up to see what Tommy is talking about, raising an eyebrow. “Yup, that’s a new customer. Bet he doesn’t recognize Mick if he’s eyeing him like that.” 

At the mention of someone watching him, Mickey feels the burning sensation in the back of his head, shifting to look over his shoulder. And- wow, holy shit, that guy is hot. 

Mickey doesn’t recognize him. Tall, light smooth skin, dark hair. He’s buff, too, but not too much - just enough to show he can lift someone and throw them without breaking a sweat. Mickey looks him up and down again. This guy can’t be from the Southside. The way he’s dressed so clean screams Northside. 

Mickey turns back around, scoffing. “North trash. No thanks.” 

Kev and Tommy groan, giving him equally appalled expressions. “Oh, come on,” Kev laughs. “That guy is smoking. Looks like your type.” 

Mickey gives him an unamused look. “My type is redheads.” 

“Big surprise,” Tommy rolls his eyes. He nudges him again. “But one lay with dark and handsome over there won’t kill you. Might relieve some of that pent up anger you got going.” 

Mickey scowls at him. It’s weird, almost. Ever since he came out, these two have been _super_ supportive of him. Even when he was with Ian, they’d talk about hot dudes in the bar with him, just like Mickey would point out hot girls to Tommy. Mickey didn’t mind, really. Made him feel more in place. 

Kev pokes his head, a shit-eating grin on his face. “One night won’t hurt. Push Gallagher out of your head for a bit.” 

Mickey chews on his lower lip, staring hard at the counter. When he feels that burning gaze again, he huffs and pushes his stool back in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll give it a go. But if he’s pretentious as fuck, I’m bailing.” 

“Fair,” Tommy and Kev say in synch, waving him on. Mickey flips them off as he slides off his stool, turning and heading towards the corner of the room where the man sits, eyes lighting up when he sees Mickey approaching. 

“Alright, man, you want to bang or some shit?” Mickey says bluntly, getting straight to the point. He’s honestly not in the mood to tap dance around this. 

The man’s eyebrows shoot up, a laugh escaping his really pretty lips. “Well, as much as I wouldn’t mind getting into your pants early, I was about to ask if I could buy you a drink.” 

Mickey pauses, leaning against the opposite booth. “Buy me a drink? What the fuck for?” 

He shrugs, still smiling. “Get to know you, wouldn’t it be?” 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” 

God, Mickey isn’t used to this shit. Ian was his first and only gay relationship so far. No man has ever willingly hit on him - due to him constantly proving he is straight as hell - so this is new territory for him. 

“Fine,” he says, crossing his arms. “You can buy me two drinks then.” 

The man’s grin widens, pushing himself up from the booth. Oh shit, he’s probably taller than Ian. Mickey’s skin prickles with the urge to fight and flee, digging his fingers into his arms to stop that instinct. The man holds out a hand to Mickey, expression so soft and hopeful and so much like Ian when they first started to catch feelings. “Name’s Cameron.” 

Mickey shakes Ian from his mind, reaching and taking the larger hand in his. “Mickey Milkovich.” 

He didn’t even waver at the mention of his last name, smile only stretching. “Let’s get that drink, yeah?” 

“Here’s your pills,” Lip says before Ian can even open his eyes, setting down a bottle of water next to the pills Ian was prescribed. “Sorry for waking you up early, but I gotta run.” 

Ian rubs the sleep from his eyes, sitting up with a soft groan. “Where you off to?” 

“Meeting up with some of my college buds,” he answers, pulling on a loose tank-top. It’s hot outside already even though it’s only ten o’clock. “Since I missed the last class, they’re gonna run by me what went down. I’ll be heading back up there this weekend. Think you’ll be okay?” 

Ian gives him a reassuring smile. “I’m getting better at remembering, I promise.” 

“Good,” Lip nods, ruffling his hair playfully and chuckling when Ian swats at his hand. “Fiona will be home later tonight, I think. Pretty sure Debbie took Liam to a play date with that Yev kid. Dunno where Carl went.” 

Ian nods, smiling at the mention of Yev. He’s a cute kid. “Okay. I might go out today.” 

“If you need anything, just call,” Lip says, picking up his bag. “Pills?” 

“Taking ‘em,” Ian chuckles, picking one up and washing it down. Lip nods in satisfaction as Ian continues to swallow down the others, turning and leaving the room. Ian shakes his head with a smile. 

Ever since Lip found him, drunk out of his mind and completely fucked over, he’s been getting better. His siblings haven’t given up on him like they did with Monica. When he was down at his lowest, they pulled him back up, no matter how much he kicked and screamed. Lip has been by his side the whole time, spending his own money to get Ian the medication and therapy he needed. It put him in a bad spot for a while, but they all stuck together. They all managed to get through this. Ian’s not sure how long he’s been on his medication, but finally, he feels good again. 

The house is empty when he goes downstairs. Maybe going out would be good for him. It’s hot as hell outside, but Ian doesn’t mind, basking in the feeling of the sun on his skin. There’s a slight breeze, so it’s not completely unbearable. He just walks. He doesn’t really think, just enjoys the sunlight and the fresh, albeit humid, air. 

He’s walking for a good twenty minutes when he realizes where he’s walked to. He stops, staring ahead at the Milkovich household. Memories rush back, of Yev, of Mandy, and _Mickey._ His heart clenches. The last time he ever saw him was when he broke it off, painful face burned into his mind. He always hated seeing Mickey cry. 

Shit, he and Mandy got off on bad terms as well. Because of the breakup and his refusal to change anything, she cut him off - told him to get his shit together before they talk again. Ian misses her. Misses Mickey. He misses all of them in general - except Terry, of-fucking-course. 

He’s not sure what brings him to do it, but before he knows it, he’s knocking on the front door. For a moment, he’s scared Terry will open the door, or worse, Mickey. He’s not ready to face him again. He hasn’t figured out how to apologize yet- for everything. He knows he did him wrong. So, so wrong. 

His heart jumps when the door clicks open. A shy smile spreads on his face at the sight of Mandy. She looks far better than when they broke off - maybe Kenyatta is out of the picture, finally. She looks surprised at the sight of him, looking him over before over her shoulder, a grin hitting her face. “Ian? What are you doing here?” 

“I came to say I’m sorry,” he says shyly, shrugging his shoulder weakly. “I’ve gotten better. Lip straightened me out and all. I think I’m okay again.” 

Mandy chews on the inside of her cheek, shifting on her feet for a moment. She opens the door a bit wider. “Want to come in?” Ian slumps in relief, nodding with a smile. 

The house is much cleaner - which definitely means Terry hasn’t been here recently. Iggy is stretched out on the couch, half-asleep, half focusing on the TV screen. Ian nods to him in acknowledgment, following Mandy to the kitchen. “So… how have you been?”

She hums, opening the fridge to pull out two beers. Ian waves it away when she offers. “Going good, actually. Great. Ditched Kenyatta’s ass a few weeks back when he tried to move me in with him in a whole other state.” 

“Yikes,” Ian laughs a bit. “That’s what crossed the line?” 

She rolls her eyes. “And the hitting never stopped, so… Iggy dealt with it.” 

Ian’s eyebrows shoot up, looking over his shoulder where the eldest Milkovich siblings didn’t even pay attention to them. “Really? I thought Mickey would’ve shot him or something.” 

“He did,” Mandy snorts. “In the leg, to be specific. Iggy kicked and punched him until he was fleeing, then the two tossed his shit out the window.” 

“That’s good,” he grins, reaching over and patting her shoulder. “I’m glad. You deserve better than that guy.” Mandy blushes and whacks his hand away, sneering when he laughs. They’re interrupted when a man Ian doesn’t know walks into the room. Shirtless. Ian shoots Mandy an amused look when the man goes for the fridge. “You moved on fast. Good taste.” 

Mandy laughs this time, albeit slightly forced. She glances back at the very tan and very toned man, rolling her eyes. “Not my man.” 

Ian frowns in confusion, immediately thinking it’s another one-nighter. The man finally notices Ian there and grins, setting his beer down and holding out a hand. “Sorry, didn’t notice you there. Name’s Cameron.” 

“Ian,” he says, taking his hand. This man is rather polite - strikes him down to be a Northside guy. What’s he doing here then? Not even Mandy goes for those bastards. 

Cameron looks between the two, grinning slyly at Mandy. “New boyfriend?” 

“He’s gay, dumbass,” Mandy rolls her eyes. Now Ian is very confused. This Cameron doesn’t seem to be a one-nighter _and_ is talking to Mandy like he’s known her for weeks. Not that she can’t have friends, but as far as Ian knows, he was the only person who could set foot in this house. 

“Ohh, I see,” he chuckles, leaning against the counter. His arms flex slightly. “Well, I-”

“Hey, asshole, you gonna take all day or wh-” Ian turns to find Mickey standing at the end of the archway to the living room, eyes widening a bit. He hasn’t seen Mickey in so long, and clearly, the other wasn’t expecting to see him. His blue eyes are wide, skin paling at the sight with his hand gripping the corner of the wall tightly. Mandy’s smile disappears altogether, now looking between the three men nervously. This could get ugly depending on how this plays out. “The fuck you doing here?” 

“Came to see Mandy,” Ian says softly, almost like a whisper. All the memories spent together, leading to Mickey accepting himself and coming out and sticking to Ian’s side through his darkest moments, came rushing back. His heart hurts. 

Cameron’s uncomfortable chuckle breaks the silence, moving past the two for Mickey. “Alright, I’m coming.” Ian doesn’t react outwardly when Cameron leans down and kisses Mickey’s cheek, effectively earning a scowl from the shorter man and a playful punch to the arm, but Ian’s heart broke in half. 

Mickey had moved on. 

Of course he would! Why wouldn’t he? He’s not bound to Ian forever, and Ian broke it off. He shouldn’t be surprised to see Mickey with someone else, eyes twinkling and look far better than he did when they were together. 

Mandy shoots Ian a pitiful look as Mickey follows after the dark-haired man, the door slamming shut behind them. Ian doesn’t look away from where Mickey was standing, speaking quietly. “So… Mickey’s man, huh?” 

“Got together a couple months back,” Mandy murmurs, rubbing Ian’s back. “He’s good to him, I’ll tell you that. He’s okay.” 

Ian can be glad for that. Mickey deserves the world, deserves to be happy and healthy and to finally embrace who he is. Ian just can’t give that to him. 

These last few months have been great. 

Mickey really enjoys the relationship he has going on with Cameron. The man is careful with him when it comes to new territory, helping him ease into things Mickey never saw himself being able to do. Like cuddling. 

Mickey never thought he’d be a sucker for fucking _cuddles._

Sometimes, late in the morning when the two don’t have much to do, Mickey will wake up in Cameron’s arms, soft and loving kisses being pressed on his face, jaw, and down his neck to his shoulder. His stomach flutters every time. It’s nice. He feels wanted, maybe even loved. 

That’s how he’s woken up Sunday morning. Cameron holds him from behind, murmuring into Mickey’s skin and stroking his skin lovingly. It feels nice. Mickey doesn’t want to get out of bed because of it. But once Cameron realizes he’s finally woken up, he grins and leans over to peck him on the cheek. “Morning.” 

Mickey grunts, not opening his eyes or moving an inch. “No.” 

He knows Cameron is rolling his eyes. A hand trails up his chest, settling over his heart and pulling him just a tad bit closer. He smiles, turning his face deeper into his pillow when he tries to kiss him. “Mick, come on. We have plans today.” 

“Five more minutes,” Mickey mumbles. 

“No more minutes,” Cameron declares, detaching himself and sliding out of bed. Mickey whines, rolling onto his back to glare at the taller man. He only chuckles at the expression. “Will a morning beer make you feel better?” 

“I think that’ll suffice,” Mickey hums, pushing himself up. Cameron walks around the bed, pausing to lean down and press a slow but sweet kiss to Mickey’s lips, thumb brushing over his cheek before he pulls back and is out the room. Mickey can’t help but smile. 

A few minutes pass and Mickey can hear people talking in the kitchen. He huffs when Cameron still hasn’t come back, sliding out of bed and picking up a random shirt. Tugging it over his head, he steps out of the bedroom and heads for the kitchen. “Hey, asshole, you gonna take all day or wh-” he cuts himself off when he sees him. _Him._ Fucking Ian Gallagher in his kitchen. What the hell is he doing here? So many emotions come running back, but he settles on anger. He can’t help but bite out “The fuck you doing here?” 

Ian looks just as uncomfortable as Mickey feels. “Came to see Mandy.” Of course. What else would he be here for? Ian’s not a chaser. Well… okay, that’s not true. The boy was determined at times to be with Mickey - certain times, not all the time. Mickey swallows, unsure of what to do now. 

“Alright, I’m coming,” Cameron interrupts the silence, walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek. Mickey can’t help but scowl and punch his arm lightly. Like hell he’ll let Ian see him act all coupley with his boyfriend. 

Mickey shuts his door hard when they make it back to his room, pressing his back to it with a sigh. Cameron eyes him carefully, setting the beers down. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Mickey mutters, moving to get dressed. 

Cameron frowns, following him and grabbing his waist, gently turning him to face him. “Hey, talk to me. What’s with Mandy’s friend?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Mickey murmurs, not meeting his eye. This isn’t the right time to talk about Ian. About how he’s the reason he accepted himself, how he’s the one who got him to come out and stand up to his father, how he’s the one who put him through hell and back then break it off like everything Mickey did didn’t matter. 

“Mick-” 

“Leave it, Cam,” Mickey grunts, pushing his hands off and continuing to go through his clothes. 

“Should I be worried or-” 

“Jesus, just let it go!” Mickey snaps, shoving his dresser shut and whipping around to glare at Cameron. He jolts, looking at Mickey with wide eyes. He frowns, mouth open to speak, but Mickey is already marching into the bathroom connected to his room. 

Ian was the last thing Svetlana expected to see upon coming back home from the store with Yevgeny. 

“What is carrot-boy doing here?” she asks, setting her son down on the couch. Mandy and Ian turn to look at her, both noticing her hard expression. “You broke off with my husband, no? What you want?” 

“Just dropping by,” Ian says, sending her a smile. She doesn’t return it. “I’m not here for Mickey.” 

“Good,” she walks past him, setting the bags on the counter. “You stay away from him.” 

“Svet,” Mandy mutters, but she ignores him. 

“If you hurt Mickey again,” she starts, turning to glare at Ian, who loses his smile, “I will cut your dick off and shove it down your throat. You ruin what he has now, I will make sure you wish you never lived. Understand?”

“Crystal,” Ian murmurs, nodding slowly. 

Mandy looks uncomfortable between them. Yevgeny babbles from the living room, pulling Svetlana back to him. Cameron and Mickey soon emerge from their room, Cameron grabbing his keys from the counter and waving at Yevgeny. If she remembers correctly, they’re going job searching for Mickey. Who would’ve thought someone could convince Mickey to make money legally? 

Mickey completely ignores Ian, beaming when he sees Svetlana and Yevgeny. “Hey, buddy,” he grins, leaning down and kissing his blonde head. Yevgeny makes grabby hands at Mickey, babbling happily. “We’ll be back in a couple hours,” he tells Svetlana. She hums in return, gesturing to him to go. He nods and waves one last time at his son before following after Cameron. 

Ian sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should head back.” 

Mandy pouts. “You wanna hang out?” 

Ian looks at her and smiles slowly, nodding. “Yeah.” 

Svetlana eyes him carefully but doesn’t speak, bouncing Yevgeny on her hip and disappearing into her room. 

“-just don’t want to talk about it, okay?! What’s the big deal?!” Svetlana looks up from filing her nails at the sound of Mickey’s shouts, cringing when she hears Yevgeny begin to wake up. She just put him down… 

“You’ve been acting weird all day!” Cameron shouts back. 

“So what? I can’t have an off day?! Fuck you!” 

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” 

“Then stop fucking bringing- _get your fucking hands off me!”_

Svetlana stands quickly, opening her door and poking her head out. Cameron and Mickey are standing a few feet apart, both glaring at one another. Cameron must’ve reached out to touch him because Mickey is extremely tense. Cameron sighs slowly and gestures for Mickey to calm down. “Look, I’m just worried. If this guy-” 

“He’s not your concern,” Mickey grits out, voice lowering. Behind Svetlana, Yevgeny begins to cry from being woken up. Mickey and Cameron turn and look, both realizing she’s watching. She raises an eyebrow at them, silently asking what the hell this is about. Mickey huffs and moves past Cameron, not saying a word as he slips into Svetlana’s room. 

Cameron’s gaze hardens and he stomps off for their room. Svetlana calmly closes the door behind her, turning to Mickey who had pulled Yevgeny out of his crib, sitting on the bed with Yevgeny laying his head on his shoulder. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Mickey murmurs, hushing Yevgeny. He rubs his small back, looking up at Svetlana. She crosses her arms, giving him a chance to properly answer her question. He sighs. “Cameron keeps asking about Ian. I don’t want to talk about that with him.” 

She hums. “Being difficult, he is?” 

Mickey chuckles dryly. “A bit.” 

“You sleep here tonight.” 

Mickey looks relieved, kissing the side of Yevgeny’s head. “Thanks.” 

They don’t see each other again for two weeks. 

“What do you think, buddy?” Mickey asks Yevgeny as he walks through the store, pushing him along in the cart. “Oreos or chocolate chip? I’m thinking Oreos, huh?” Yevgeny babbles in response, too busy waving around his teething toy. Mickey grins, grabbing the box of Oreos. “Glad we agree.” 

It took two nights of Mickey staying in Svetlana’s room before Cameron cracked, apologizing for trying to push Mickey. Well, there was more to that conversation, but it’s not a big deal anymore. Mickey is glad to be back in his room, waking up in Cameron’s arms and feeling safe again. 

Yevgeny attempts to bite down with his barely-there-teeth on his toy, looking up at Mickey and swinging his legs happily. Mickey smiles in return, looking at the shelves for the next item on the list Svetlana demanded he get. 

“Oh, hey, Mickey.” 

His head snaps forward, freezing when he finds the damned redheaded Gallagher in front of him. Ian is smiling. He looks extremely healthy - so good again. Mickey snaps his mouth shut, clearing his throat. “Hey, Gallagher.” 

Ian’s eyes linger on him for a moment, trailing down to Yevgeny. His grin grows wider, stepping closer and waving his fingers at the child. “Hey, Yev. God, you’ve gotten bigger. He’s teething already?” 

Mickey chuckles slightly. “Yeah, he really likes that shit. Don't complain much, either.” 

Ian pets back Yevgeny’s short blonde locks, so gently that it takes Mickey aback. Memories from the last time Yevgeny was in Ian’s care come flashing back, making Mickey wince. That was one of the most terrifying days of his life. Ian steps back, that damn soft smile still on his face. “How have you been, Mick?” 

“Fine,” Mickey responds quickly. Ian raises an eyebrow, still fucking _smiling._ Mickey can’t tell if he’s annoyed or so happy to see that smile again. “My, uh, my boyfriend is helping me try and get a job. Want to give Yevgeny a better life than what Terry gave, you know?” 

Ian’s gaze softens. “That’s great, Mick.” 

Mickey has to look away. He’s missed this Ian too much. It’s overwhelming to see it again. “How about you? Seems you’re taking your pills or something.” 

He expects Ian to react negatively. He wants him too. Remind him why this distance between them is good now. But Ian just chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Lip straightened me out. I’ve been much better.” 

“That’s good,” Mickey nods, throat growing tight. “I’m glad.” 

It’s quiet between them for a moment, the only sound being Yevgeny’s babbling. Ian sighs, his smile faltering a bit. “Mick, I need to apologize.” 

“Don’t,” Mickey does look away this time, moving to push the cart forward. He can’t. Not now. 

Ian steps over and grabs the side of the cart - not tightly, but enough to get Mickey to stop. “I’m not trying to get you back, okay? I can see you’re happy, and you deserve that Mickey, especially after everything. I’m just… really sorry about how things ended between us. It tears at me every day, and I deserve that.” 

“Ian…” Mickey mumbles, but he keeps going. 

“I would like to start over, if you wouldn’t mind,” he says carefully. “I’d like to be friends again. You know, move past this and can stand to be in the same room together.” He grins at the last part, managing to pull a small one from Mickey as well. “Okay?” 

Mickey isn’t sure, really. Fuck, he has yet to tell Cameron about Ian and what happened between them. He’s not sure when he will, honestly. But he knows Ian and Mandy seemed to have made up, which will result in him being around more, which most likely will result in Yevgeny growing up knowing Ian very well. Avoiding him seems to be impossible. 

“Okay,” he says slowly, looking up at the Gallagher. “Sure, I’m down.”

Ian smiles again, releasing the edge of the cart. “Good- great! That’s great. Would you like to go for drinks later? Catch up?” He grins, leaning closer. “I’d like to hear more about this boyfriend of yours. He’s hot.” 

Mickey can’t help but laugh. “Don’t take him from me, man. This one’s mine.” 

Ian snorts. “Don’t worry, he’s not my type.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes. He pauses when he feels his phone vibrate, checking it and rolling his eyes again. “That’s Svet. I gotta hurry up before she chops off Cameron’s dick so I can’t get fucked.” 

Ian presses his lips together, struggling to not laugh. Classic Svetlana. “I’ll call you later then.” 

“Sure,” Mickey nods. “See you tonight.” 

“Wait wait wait, he’s from the Northside?! No way!” Ian sets his glass down, doubling over in laughter. 

Mickey flushes in embarrassment, taking a quick swig of his whiskey. “Yeah, he’s definitely from the Northside. Rich as fuck, man. He drives a nice ass car and all.” 

“Don’t let Jimmy find it,” Ian grins, the two snickering at the mention of Fiona’s ex. Ian orders a refill, shaking his head in amusement. “Northside. Think Terry would lose his shit more about him than he did me?” 

“For sure,” Mickey snorts. “He hates all the Northside folk more than us faggots. Think his head would actually explode.” 

Ian smirks. “You should introduce Cameron as soon as possible.” 

“Fuck off,” Mickey laughs, downing the rest of his glass and ordering another. Hey, Gallagher said he was paying. He’ll enjoy this while he can considering it’s been weeks since he got a drink. Maybe months. When did Cameron start that rule again? 

They drink for a couple of hours - Mickey feels bad for Ian’s pockets, but he said he can afford it, so whatever - laughing and sharing stories and completely at peace with one another. It feels nice. Mickey feels open again with Ian. Maybe they could make this work. Hell, Cameron might be open to drinking again. Mickey likes this. 

It’s close to midnight when Ian needs to bounce on home, receiving a call from a very worried Fiona. Mickey takes a moment to call Cameron, having to call twice before his boyfriend picks up. “Hey, can you come pick me up from the Alibi?” 

“The hell are you doing there?” Cameron doesn’t sound too happy. 

Mickey’s voice slurs a bit, resisting the urge to chuckle at how wonky everything sounds. “Catching up with an old friend. Had a few drinks. I dunno if I can walk home. Heh, it’s all aching. Think I might vomit.” 

Cameron is deadly quiet for a moment. “I’ll be there in five.” 

He hangs up. Mickey grins, leaning back against the booth the two moved to sit at earlier. Fuck, he’s wasted. Ian doesn’t look too good either, cheeks flushed heavily with a dopey smile on his face. Is he waiting for Cameron to come get him before he leaves? That’s sweet. 

Mickey leans against his hand, humming softly. “You’re sweet, y’know?” 

Ian raises an amused eyebrow. “Fuck, you are wasted.” 

“Nooo, ‘m great,” Mickey slurs, eyes fluttering shut. “I missed ya, Gallagher.” 

“Yeah?”

“Ya freaked me out back then,” he continues, slowly lowering his head to the table. He feels a hand cup the back of his neck, thumb brushing through the ends of his hair. He needs to get that cut. “It’s good to see you smiling.” 

Ian doesn’t say anything, just continues stroking the back of his neck. A couple minutes breeze by, not sure how many exactly, when Mickey feels a larger hand on his back, pulling him from his dazed sleep. Ian pulls his hand back and stands, shooting Cameron a quick smile. “Sorry I couldn’t bring him. We’re both a bit drunk.” 

“It’s fine,” Cameron says gruffly, leaning down to look Mickey in the eye. His eyes are narrowed. “Mick, I thought we agreed to give up drinking.” 

Mickey waves him off, grinning. “Ah, let me live a little.” 

Cameron’s jaw clenches as Mickey snickers. He grabs his arm and tugs him to his feet, pulling his arm over his shoulders and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.” 

Mickey sways against him, letting him lead him out. He tilts his head back, waving at the three Ians behind them. “Bye-bye!” 

Three smiles appear, making Mickey’s chest flutter. Such a pretty smile… 

“Can I ask you something, babe?” Cameron asks softly as he helps Mickey out of his clothes. Mickey swoons at the nickname, and for once, because his filter has run right out the door, doesn’t hide the fact. He smiles and nods, wiggling out of his shirt. “What’s this Ian guy to you?” 

“Ian?” Mickey murmurs, his smile turning dopey. “Ahh, we used to date. He was my first boyfriend.” 

“Oh?” Cameron says quietly, helping him out of his jeans. “Something happen between you two?” 

Mickey hums, sliding his arms around his neck. “Yeah, why?” 

Cameron huffs, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He wrinkles his nose at the taste of alcohol. “Just wondering.” 

Mickey’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into Cameron. “Ian’s bipolar and shit. Got a little fucked up at times.” 

“How so?” Cameron presses, guiding Mickey down onto the bed. 

Mickey shrugs, turning and nuzzling his pillow. “Mm… cheated on me, did a porno without being safe, kidnapped my kid…” 

“He kidnapped Yev?” Cameron pauses in his changing, looking at Mickey in surprise. 

“Yeah, but he didn’t hurt him,” Mickey mumbles. “Except for when he left him in a hot car. It wasn’t a good day…” 

Cameron sinks down onto the bed next to him, pulling the comforter over them. “How come you went out with him tonight after all of that?” 

Mickey’s smile comes back, making Cameron frown. “He told me he’s better. He seems better too. He’s smiling again. I missed that…” 

“Do you miss him?” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Mickey says without thinking, scooting close to nuzzle against Cameron’s chest. “Been through a lot with him… It’s nice…” 

Cameron says nothing, allowing Mickey to doze off finally. He rubs his face, chest tightening with frustration. He didn’t like this Ian. Not one bit. And seeing Mickey with that stupidly soft smile on his face at the mention of the _Gallagher_ sets him on edge. This won’t do. 

“-find you drunk off your ass with your _ex!_ The hell were you thinking?!”

“Lower your voice-” 

“This isn’t something you can just brush off, Mickey! This isn’t okay!” 

“We didn’t do anything, now lower your voice.” 

“If he got any drunker, who knows-” 

“He’s not a fucking rapist, you prick!” 

Mandy groans, tossing her pillow off of her head. They’ve been fighting for at least ten minutes now. It’s almost noon anyway - might as well get up. 

“He’s bipolar! You don’t know-” 

“Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence.” 

“Jesus Christ, can you two shut up?” Mandy snaps, walking into the kitchen. Cameron is standing by the kitchen counter, hands pressed down on the counter top with a dark look on his face. Mickey is sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing his temple and trying to keep his eyes open. He’s definitely hungover. “You’ll wake Svet up, and you don’t want that.” 

Cameron ignores that, gesturing to Mickey. “Mickey here went out last night with his unpredictable bipolar ex to the Alibi and got drunk to the point where he couldn’t stand.” 

“Will you stop bringing up the bipolar bit?” Mickey mutters, eyes fluttering shut. “He’s better.” 

“Yeah, coming from the man who cheated, kidnapped your kid-” 

Mickey’s head snaps up, eyes piercing. “How do you know that?” 

“ _You_ told me,” Cameron bites. 

“You bastard,” Mickey stands, wincing in pain from his headache. “You asked me when I was drunk, huh? Wow, love the trust we got going on here.” 

“Oh, bite me,” Cameron growls. “You don’t tell me shit.” 

Mandy shifts awkwardly, closing the fridge loudly. Mickey huffs and stomps off, slamming the door to his bedroom. Mandy walks next to Cameron, raising an eyebrow at him. “That wasn’t cool, man.” 

Cameron scowls at her, marching past her after Mickey. “Piss off.” 

“Fuck you,” she snaps, watching him go. She mutters under her breath when the door slams shut, hearing their muffled voices grow louder. She pulls out her phone, deciding to call Ian. She needs to get out. 

Mandy and Ian open the front door, stumbling over each other in laughter. Iggy looks up at them from the couch, raising an eyebrow. “The fuck are you two so giggly about?” 

Ian snorts while Mandy snickers, jogging into the kitchen for beers. “We just got banned from the theater. Don’t ask why - it was stupid.” 

Iggy rolls his eyes, gesturing for a beer as well. “I’m sure it wasn’t as stupid as me and Joey’s reason.” 

“Debatable,” Ian chuckles, plopping down next to him. 

Mandy walks over, handing them both a beer. She looks around when she notices it’s quiet. “Where are the others at?” 

Iggy shrugs. “Svet took Yev to Kev’s place, Cameron went fuck knows where, and Mick’s in the bathroom probably jacking off or something.” 

Mandy rolls her eyes, turning and heading into the hallway. “Not likely with how often those two fucks go at it.” Ian laughs from the couch. Mandy marches up to the bathroom door, knocking quickly before opening it. “Better not be jacking off cause-” 

She stops dead, watching Mickey jerk away from the mirror. Her throat tightens at the sight of blood, eyes flicking over the state of her brother. Left eye all bloody and shut tight, lips split and mouth dripping with blood, bruises marked along his neck and arms. Not to mention the look of fear on his face. 

It’s gone quickly, gaze hardening as he reaches and grabs the door. “The fuck you looking at?” 

Before she can respond, ask questions, or even help him, he’s slamming the door in her face, the lock clicking. She stands there quietly for a few moments, staring at the door in a shocked daze. 

She marches back into the living room, moving and blocking Iggy’s view of the TV. “What the hell happened to Mick?” 

“The fuck you mean?” Iggy asks, annoyed. 

“He’s all bloody and shit in there!” she hisses. 

Ian’s eyes widen while Iggy stands up sharply, seeming to realize something. “Shit,” he mutters, moving past Mandy for the bathroom. He tries the handle, finding it locked, and bangs on the door. “Mickey, open this door right now.” 

“Fuck off, Iggy!” 

“I will kick this door down, so help me,” he threatens. 

“Please, leave me alone,” Mickey pleads this time. Mandy and Ian look at each other at the change in tone, eyes glowing with concern. Iggy seems to hesitate, lowering his voice a bit. 

“Let me in, Mick. Come on…” 

Three long minutes go by, Iggy not moving from the door. It finally clicks open, the three people freezing at the sight of Mickey’s state. Iggy curses, moving into the room and sitting him down on the toilet, checking over his eye. “Is it who I think it is?” 

Mickey flinches, shaking his head. Iggy’s gaze hardens, eyebrows raising at his younger brother. Mickey’s split lips parts, eyes flicking away, before he nods slowly. Iggy growls, turning and grabbing a rag. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“It’s nothing,” Mickey says, wiping blood off of his chin. 

“What happened?” Ian asks this time, taking Mickey by surprise. He didn’t even notice he was there. 

When Mickey doesn’t respond, Iggy does for him. “Cameron, that’s what happened.” 

“Fuck!” Mandy curses, running her hands through her hair. “Cameron? Are you serious?” 

“It’s nothing,” Mickey says again weakly. He doesn’t protest as Iggy begins to wipe the blood off his face with the wet rag, hissing when he brushes over the cut on his eyebrow. “Seriously. I hit him too.” 

“Yet, when he walked out, he wasn’t bleeding,” Iggy says. Mickey shuts up quickly. 

No one moves as Iggy works, watching as bit by bit, the blood is wiped away. Mickey has cuts along his eyebrow and cheek and lips, eye swollen shut and turning a nasty dark color. Mandy takes over with bandaging his cuts, Ian stepping back as Iggy storms out, looking for his gun. “Don’t even think about it!” Mickey calls after him, moving to stand only to be pushed back down by Mandy. 

Ian follows after Iggy, watching for a moment as the older Milkovich tears open the cabinet and goes through their guns, muttering under his breath. Ian checks over his shoulder before moving to his side, lowering his voice. “Iggy, think this through.” 

“I did,” he grunts, loading up a handgun. “I’m not that dumb.” 

“Iggy, Mickey won’t forgive you,” he whispers, grabbing his arm. 

Iggy rips his arm free, poking his chest with his finger. “I’ve ignored plenty of shit you did to him because he begged me too. I wanted to bash your head in when you cheated. I wanted to bury you in a ditch somewhere when you kidnapped his fucking child.” Ian flinches, but Iggy keeps going, no longer whispering. “I wanted to cut your throat open when he came home bloody. I wanted to put a bullet in your head when you broke it off, after everything he did. I’m not making the same mistake again.” 

Ian swallows hard. Iggy is terrifying when he’s angry and not goofing off. He’s a lot more serious than Ian gave him credit for. “We need a plan, Iggy. This guy is from the Northside. It’ll be far worse if you were to kill him.” 

That gets Iggy to stop, cursing under his breath as he tosses his gun back onto the shelf. He runs a hand down his face, pacing the space in front of Ian. “Okay. Okay, okay. A plan. What do you suggest?” 

“We should talk to Mickey,” Ian starts, lowering his voice again. “Convince him to break it off and be done with him. Northside trash can’t survive in the Southside without a bodyguard, and Mickey is that bodyguard.” Iggy snorts. “If he doesn’t, then let’s just hope it doesn’t happen again. If it does, I’ll take care of it.” 

“Why you?”

“Our relationship won’t ever be the same,” Ian sighs. “Best to ruin ours instead of yours.” 

Iggy frowns, nodding silently and locking the cabinet back up. Mandy walks out, glancing at them as she moves to get an ice pack. Ian turns and silently asks for it, Mandy not saying a word as she passes it to him and gestures to Mickey’s room. 

Mickey is sitting on his bed when Ian walks in, gingerly touching his bandaged face with a sort of distant look in his eye. Ian falters for a moment. He sinks down next to him, jolting Mickey out of his daze. He takes the ice pack silently, pressing it to his eye with a small hiss. Ian meets his gaze, knowing he’s not doing so hot in hiding his concern. Mickey looks away. “Mick-”

“I’m fine, Gallagher-” 

“-is this because of me?” 

Mickey freezes up, looking back at him with a wide eye. Ian meets his eye, reaching up and shifting the ice pack a bit higher, hand warm over Mickey’s. He repeats his question, watching Mickey tense up, jaw locking and eye averting. “No.” 

Ian rubs his thumb over his knuckles, breathing out “Be honest with me, Mick.” 

Mickey huffs, pressing the ice pack more firmly against his eye. “Okay- fuck- yes. He just got jealous or some shit. I don’t know. He’s never acted like this before.” 

Ian purses his lips, looking Mickey over. He looks almost vulnerable. “You’re not staying with him, right?” 

Mickey swallows hard, looking away. “It was just a fight… we fought too.” 

It was a fair fight, though. Not that Mickey can’t take care of himself, but Ian heard Iggy say Cameron had nothing on him. Last he checked, Mickey can make anyone bleed with one punch. Was he held down? He doesn’t want to ask. He’s sure Mickey doesn’t want to answer. “Mick, I want you to think about this real quick. Think about Mandy and Kenyatta.” 

Mickey hunches his shoulders up. “That’s different.” 

“How so?” 

“Mandy’s a girl,” Mickey mutters, cringing when he says it. “You don’t hit women.” 

“True,” Ian sighs, “but you don’t hit your partner either. I beat myself up every day for hitting you, you know?” Mickey doesn’t react, leaning more and more into the ice pack. “I know you think the same. When we fought, I swung first. It was all my fault. You never wanted to hurt me.” 

“So?” 

“Because I was your partner,” Ian murmurs, squeezing his hand. “Should’ve dumped me on the spot, honestly, which is why you should do the same now.” 

Mickey winces, looking up at him with his good eye. “I can’t… It was an accident… He won’t do it again.” 

Ian is silent for a moment. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“Promise me you’ll tell me or Iggy if he does?” 

“I-” Mickey hesitates, huffing and nodding slowly. “Fine, yes. I promise.” 

“Good,” he nods, satisfied. For now. “I’m gonna call Lip and stay over, is that alright?” 

Mickey shrugs, gesturing to his door. “Yeah, couch is free. Dunno is my cousins will wake you up or not.” 

“That’s alright,” he smiles, gripping his hand gently and pulling the ice pack from his face. His eye is much darker than before, but the swelling has gone down a bit. He sets the pack down on his nightstand, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his temple above his cut. “Sleep well, okay?” 

Mickey nods numbly, cheeks a bit pink as Ian leaves the room. He closes the door gently behind him, sighing and walking into the living room where the two other Milkovich siblings are talking quietly. He sits down next to Mandy, lolling his head back against the couch with a small hum. “Mind if I crash here?” 

Mickey stirs a bit from his painfully difficult sleep, feeling a hand gently run through his messy hair. He peeks open an eye - his black eye slowly beginning to open again - squinting in the dark to find Svetlana hovering over him, sitting neatly in front of his hips on the bed. She brushes her thumb over his eyebrow, careful around the cut at the corner. He stares at her silently. 

He always thought he’d hate Svetlana for what happened between them - what brought Yevgeny into their lives. There wasn’t meant to be any love between them. Now, they may not love each other as partners - both make fun of that idea - but in a platonic sense. They are husband and wife, only plans to get a divorce when either of them want to marry someone else. They have this for Yevgeny. Mickey knows Svetlana fears he’ll drop them out of nowhere, throw them out into the streets and have her become a hooker again just to feed their kid. 

He won’t ever throw them out. Over the years, they’ve wormed their way into his heart. They’re his family. 

Svetlana leans down and kisses his temple, oddly close to where Ian kissed him. His eyes flutter shut, still worn out from today. She doesn’t speak, simply strokes her fingers through his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He hums, enjoying the feeling. 

He finally dozes back off when the front door opens and closes. Svetlana peers out of Mickey’s open door, eyes narrowing when she sees Cameron dropping his coat on the ground and moving into the living room. Svetlana looks down at Mickey to make sure he’s still asleep before getting up and heading out, closing the door softly behind her. 

“-ing prick! How dare you hit my brother like that?” Mandy marches up to Cameron, glaring up at him. He doesn’t even flinch, glaring back down at her. “The fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What the hell is he doing here?” he growls, now looking at Ian, who has gotten to his feet. Cameron shoves Mandy aside, marching for Ian. “You think you can just waltz in here and have Mickey back, huh? Not gonna happen, ginger.” 

“Fuck you, I don’t want him back,” Ian snaps, marching up to him till they meet in the middle, annoyed Cameron has a couple inches on him. “You can have him, but you can’t beat him to a fucking pulp.” 

“Says the guy who did the same thing,” Cameron snarls, shoving Ian back. 

Ian stumbles, gaining his footing and swinging a fist at Cameron, knocking into his jaw. Cameron curses and lands a punch on Ian. Svetlana has had enough, moving swiftly into the kitchen and grabbing a kitchen knife. When Ian shoves Cameron backward, Svetlana moves and shoves him against the wall, pressing the edge of the blade right up to his throat. Everyone freezes. “Svet!” Mandy steps forward, but she ignores her. 

“Listen closely, you pathetic excuse for man,” she mutters, almost smirking when she sees the fear glinting in his eyes. A drop of blood slides down the blade, but Svetlana doesn’t let up. “If you lay hands on Mickey again, I will chop all limbs off and beat you to death with each one until you’re nothing but mess of blood and guts. Are we clear?” 

Nothing is said for a few moments, Svetlana applying more pressure to the blade at his silence. He nods curtly, holding his breath. She pulls back and chucks the knife back into the kitchen, pointing over at Ian. “Orange-boy stays. He is no threat to you, Cameron. Stop being jealous fuck and never hit my husband again.” 

She turns her attention to Ian and Mandy. “You two bunk together. Pathetic sleeps on couch. I will watch Mickey. Understood?” 

“Crystal,” Ian murmurs. 

She nods, turning on her heel and back to Mickey’s room, disappearing inside. Iggy sighs, downing the rest of his beer, before getting to his feet, pointing at Cameron. “Next time, I’m putting a bullet in your head.” 

Without another word, he marches past them and slams his bedroom door shut. 

Nothing happens for a few weeks. It took a week before Mickey allowed Cameron back into his room, the two seeming to make up - as if nothing happened. Ian spent a week back home, watching over his siblings and helping out with a payment they ran into. When he went back to the Milkovich household, the seemingly happy couple was napping on the couch, holding one another as if Mickey was never hit. It made Ian sick. 

“Wanna go to lunch?” Mandy asks, leaning against Ian’s kitchen counter. “I got some coupons.” 

Ian chuckles, cleaning up the kitchen. “Dinner might work better. Kind of got my hands full.” Mandy pouts. Ian pauses, looking over at her with a grin. “Lip’s upstairs. You could ask him.” 

She blinks, letting out a nervous laugh. “Lip?” 

Ian’s grin widens, leaning against his arms on the counter. “Come on, you two haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s still into you, y’know?”

She turns pink, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Into my body, more like.” 

“Well,” he sighs, gaze softening, “baby steps.” Mandy bites her lip, a smile threatening her lips. He hums, standing up straight and grabbing his bag. “Gotta go. I’ll catch you later, yeah?” 

“Sure,” she smiles, waving him off as he leaves. She looks over at the stairs and bites her cheek, grinning and moving for them. 

Ian doesn’t see any of the Milkovichs besides Mandy for almost two months and he honestly doesn’t have a reason as to why. Now that Cameron and Mickey are okay, he doesn’t go over as often, and when he does, Mandy’s the only one home. He’s not sure where Iggy is running off to, but he hasn’t heard a word from him. 

He’ll occasionally text Mickey, making sure everything is okay. Their conversations are short, but Mickey doesn’t seem to mind. Ian sure doesn’t. He’s happy to know Mickey is okay still. Glad he’s happy again. 

He’s woken by his phone going off, grunting in annoyance when he sees it’s seven in the morning. On a weekend too. Not cool. Still, he picks up the phone and sighs when he sees Mandy is calling, quickly answering and putting it to his ear. “The fuck you doing up so early?” 

“Mind if we go out?” Mandy asks, a bit rushed. Ian frowns when he hears an angry whisper, followed by Mandy’s hushed words he can’t make out. 

“Go out where? It’s seven, Mandy.” 

“I know, I know, but- _shut up,”_ she whispers to someone else. “Can you pick me up? Please?” 

Ian pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, huffing out as he rubs his temple. “Yeah, sure. Give me ten.” 

“Thank you.” 

Ian is still groggy with sleep by the time he gets out to his car, slapping his cheeks lightly to bring some life to his tired eyes. He feels like he should be more concerned, but he’s really fucking tired. Mandy sounded urgent, but not in the sense that she was in danger. More like she just got in a fight and needed to get out. Either way, Ian still speeds down the road. 

When he pulls up to the Milkovich household, he honestly wasn’t expecting to see Mandy pulling along a struggling Mickey by the arm. They are arguing - Mandy having a death grip on his arm as she pulls him closer and closer to Ian’s car while Mickey tries to dig his heels into the ground, his free hand trying to pry her fingers off. Ian raises a confused eyebrow. 

And what the hell is Mickey wearing? It’s going to hit eighty degrees today, and the man is dressed in a heavy jacket and bulky jeans. Is he not dying in that?

Mandy rips open the passenger door and manages to shove Mickey in after a tough minute, slamming the door shut and pointing at him threateningly through the window before climbing into the backseat. “Step on it before he decides to roll out.” 

Mickey turns and glares at her. Ian shrugs and does as he’s told, taking off down the road as the two buckle up. He reaches over and flips on the AC to high, looking at the two in confusion. “Er, care to explain?” 

Mandy shakes her head, crossing her arms in annoyance. “We’re going to breakfast.” 

“Oookay,” Ian says slowly, shooting her a frown through the rearview mirror. “Why so suddenly? And early?” Neither Milkovich speaks. Ian looks over at Mickey, noticing he is extremely red. He reaches over without thinking, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead gently. “Dude, you’re burning up. Take off that damn jacket.” 

Mickey looks almost surprised at Ian’s concern, shrugging weakly and tugging the jacket closer around him. Ian hums, looking back at the road. “Got a fever? Why did you drag him out, Mands?” She’s glaring at the back of Mickey’s head now, but still neither of them speak. “Guys, come on, I’m kind of in the dark here.” 

“Can we go to that one coffee shop at the north corner?” Mickey mumbles. Ian doesn’t miss how Mandy’s gaze softens, nodding and giving Ian the directions. 

Ian’s concern grows as they make it to the coffee shop, take their orders, and sit down. No one speaks until their orders come, Ian looking between the two while Mandy stares at Mickey hard and Mickey tries to look anywhere but them. When their food sits for two minutes without being touched, Ian cracks. “Guys, someone better fucking say something.” 

“Take off your jacket,” Mandy says. 

“No,” Mickey mutters, reaching up and shifting a piece of French Toast on his plate. 

Ian’s worry spikes hard. “What happened? Did Cameron hurt you again? What happened, Mickey?” 

Mickey huffs. “No, he didn’t do anything.” He glances up at them, catching Mandy’s hard gaze and Ian’s concerned eyes, flinching and finally tugging the heavy jacket off. He shudders in relief at the extra heat getting taken away, tucking his hands between his legs. 

Ian pauses, looking Mickey over. He’s not hurt, no, but he’s tiny. Like, _tiny._ His arms were skinnier than the last time he saw him, the muscle he packed over their high school years and juvie completely gone. Ian takes a closer look, noticing his face seems a bit hollow. If his tank-top wasn’t so baggy, he would see if his waist shrunk any as well. He clearly hasn’t been eating. 

Ian looks down at his plate of scrambled eggs that are probably getting cold, humming and taking a quick bite. The siblings stare at him, waiting for his response. He points his fork at Mickey’s toast, raising an eyebrow. “Eat, Mick.” 

It’s apparently all Mickey needs to hear. He carefully grabs a piece and takes a hesitant bite, staring down at his lap as he does. Mandy silently eats her own plate of eggs and sausage, stabbing her food with her fork a bit too harshly. They continue like that for a few minutes until Mickey stops eating, only scoffing down one and a half of his toast. Ian gestures to his own plate of eggs. “Want some?” 

Mickey shakes his head. Ian guesses he might already be full. When was the last time he ate? Why was he not eating in the first place? “I don’t want to beat around the bush, Mick. What’s this about?” 

“It’s nothing, just not hungry anymore,” Mickey mutters, rubbing his arm. Mandy opens her mouth, ready to argue and lecture, but Ian elbows her in the side. She glares at him, but he gives her a look - a keep-your-mouth-shut look. 

“Can you be honest with me?” Ian asks this time, setting his fork down. Mickey looks up at him. God, he looks vulnerable. What happened to him? “Is it Cameron?” 

The air grows thick in a snap - Mandy’s eyes harden further, Mickey’s face scrunching up in frustration. He’s struggling to answer Ian, mouth opening and closing, teeth gritting when nothing comes up. Ian waits patiently, reaching across the table to touch his hand. Mickey swallows, staring at Ian’s hand over his. “I- Cameron said I should watch my figure and shit… He doesn’t like…” 

He stops, shifting his hand out from under Ian’s to tuck it back between his thighs, hunching his shoulders up. He’s embarrassed, Ian can tell. Mickey was never a guy who’d change for someone else. Something was wrong with this. 

“Mandy, can I drop you back off at my place?” Ian asks, turning to her. “Lip is home. I want to talk with Mickey alone.” 

Mickey huffs but doesn’t say anything. Mandy looks pissed off but nods reluctantly. 

He calls Lip to make sure he’s okay and available right now, not surprised when he hears Lip frantically get ready at the mention of Mandy. Lovesick puppy, right there. 

After he drops Mandy off, he drives them to the local park down the road, knowing there aren’t going to be any kids out this early. Mickey follows without a word of protest, the two sitting down on the only two swings in the park. Ian pulls out a pack of cigarettes, pressing one between his lips and flicking open his lighter. He takes a deep inhale, blowing smoke out into the warm air and holding the cigarette out to Mickey. His fingers twitch but he shakes his head. Ian raises an eyebrow in question. “Cameron doesn’t like it when I smoke.” 

While smoking is definitely not the safest thing for someone to do - Ian can acknowledge that - but Mickey should have a choice in this bullshit city. “What, did you two recently quit?” He remembers seeing the two smoking just a few months back.

Mickey hesitates. “No, he still smokes.” 

Ian closes his eyes. Is this some kind of control game to Cameron? He takes another drag, shaking his head. “And how exactly is he getting you to do this?” 

“Do what?”

“Stop smoking,” he begins, gesturing to Mickey’s body. “Stop eating. Stop drinking. I know Mickey Milkovich doesn’t care what anybody thinks and sure as hell wouldn’t starve himself because someone told him to.” 

Mickey bites his lip, swinging his legs lazily under him. His hands are tucked between his thighs again, shifting uncomfortably in the swing seat. “Why do you care?” 

“You’re my friend, Mick?” 

“Am I?” 

“Of course,” Ian smiles, reaching over and setting a hand on his knee. “I care about you, Mick. Always have. Last thing I want to see is you hurt, especially by someone you love.” Mickey’s eyes flick from his hand to his face. Besides the slight dark color around his eye, it looks like that night never happened. Ian squeezes his knee. “I made a mistake, and I don’t want you to ever forgive me. It was wrong. What Cameron is doing is wrong. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness either.” 

Mickey looks hesitant, eyeing Ian carefully. He swallows, shaking his leg nervously. New nervous ticks, Ian supposes. “Is it bad?” Mickey asks finally, looking down at himself. 

“Is what bad?”

“That I’m changing for him,” he says softly. “I haven’t had a goddamn drink in weeks. It hurts not smoking and I fucking hate it. I’ve reached the point where it hurts to _eat._ I feel like I’m dying, Ian.” 

“Then why?” he urges. 

“I don’t know!” Mickey shakes his head, his leg shaking faster. “He shoved me around a-and told me that this _will_ happen or else he’d do something.” 

Ian's blood is boiling, his vision turning red. “Do what?”

“I don’t know,” Mickey mutters, looking at Ian with such a broken expression. 

There it is. The underlying threat is what’s scaring Mickey. It’s obvious Cameron has a lot on him - height and build. Especially now, with Mickey so skinny. Mickey always knows when he’s outnumbered, knows when to back down. Terry raised him that way. Terry had a lot on him when he was younger, leading to Mickey becoming homophobic and in denial to his own needs and feelings for years. It’s happening again, but with Cameron. 

“Look at me,” Ian murmurs, getting to his feet. Mickey does as he’s told, grabbing onto the chains of his swing and pulling himself up. Ian looks down at him, taking in his features. He looks paler than usual, and it makes his stomach curl. His hair is growing out, too - not that he minds, but Mickey always hated growing his hair out. “This - what you and Cameron have - needs to stop. This will kill you, Mickey, you understand? Put your foot down and if he doesn’t listen or puts his hands on you, you call me. Okay?” 

Mickey’s face scrunches up. “Ian-” 

He cups his face gently, pressing their foreheads together. “Mickey, you are great. You’re gorgeous and good. You deserve to be treated right by the right man. Someone who loves you and won’t do you wrong.” 

Mickey’s eyes are turning red, trying to turn his head away. “I’m not-” 

Ian firmly moves his head back, looking him straight in the eyes. “You are good, Mickey. A good person. You deserve to be happy, okay?” 

Mickey’s lips tremble, eyes watering. “Okay…”

He strokes his cheeks gently with his thumbs, swaying slowly with Mickey. He feels a tear hit his thumb, wiping it away with a soft smile. Mickey’s eyes flick over his face, confused and fearful and vulnerable. Ian’s heart stutters when they laid on his lips, feeling Mickey tilt his head up, their noses brushing and lips just an inch apart. Ian almost leans forward, almost pulls Mickey closer and keep him there and protect him for the rest of their lives, but Mickey hiccups and ducks out from under his hands, holding a hand to his mouth. “I can’t…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ian murmurs, reaching out for him. Mickey’s trying to not cry, though a few tears slip down. “Mickey, don’t cry-” 

“I can’t,” Mickey repeats, trembling as if he just got the biggest spook of his life. “I can’t cheat. I can’t do that to him, Ian.” 

“I know, I don’t want you to,” Ian reassures, moving and grabbing his thin shoulders firmly. “Mickey, don’t cry. I’m not upset. It’s okay.”

Mickey squeezes his eyes shut and falls forward into him, burying his face in his chest and holding onto his shirt tightly. Ian wraps his arms around him, ignoring the growing heat and making sure Mickey doesn’t full-on collapse. Shit, this isn’t good. Mickey’s a damn mess. His blood boils, knowing this is all Cameron’s doing. 

“Come on,” Ian murmurs into his hair, cupping the back of his neck. This always helped Mickey get his grounding back. “Let’s head back home. We can make some lunch later.” Mickey takes a deep breath and nods, stepping back and rubbing his face in embarrassment. Ian smiles, holding out a hand in offer. Mickey hesitates, standing still for a moment before his lips quirk up and he slaps Ian’s hand away, flipping him off as he starts heading for the car. 

Ian grins. There’s the Mickey he knows. 

A couple of days later, Ian receives a call around ten at night. 

He can’t help but smile when he sees Mickey’s caller ID appear, moving to step out of the room. The Gallaghers are having a much needed movie night. The others don’t look away from the screen as he leaves, not bothering to ask. He steps out onto the front porch, answering with a cheerful “Hey, Mick. What’s up?” 

He hears heavy breathing at first, making his smile falter. “He did it again.” 

Ian’s blood runs cold, gripping his phone tightly as his eyes widen. “Where are you?” 

“Um,” Mickey pauses, taking a moment to answer, “I’m in Svetlana’s room. I locked the door- I have Yev with me. I don’t know where Iggy is.” 

“Shit, okay, I’m coming over,” he says, fishing out his car keys. “Is Cameron still there?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is he trying to come in?” 

“Not anymore.” 

“I’ll be over in five minutes,” Ian says, sliding into his car and switching the engine on. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Without another beat, Mickey hangs up. Ian curses, tossing his phone aside and stepping on it. 

His knuckles turn white against the wheel, grinding his teeth in fury. He knew this would happen, dammit. It was bound to with how he was treating Mickey these past few months. Maybe Mickey did put his foot down and it backfired. Shit, Ian shouldn’t have pressured him. But fuck! Mickey deserves so much better! Maybe this is where he crosses the line - where Mickey drops his ass and never looks back. He called Ian. That was a good sign, at least. Maybe Ian can finally beat the shit out of the abusive prick. 

His tires screech to a halt outside the Milkovich household, almost not parking before he flies out of the car, running to the front door and thankful for once to find it unlocked. He hears crying and screaming, paling at the sound. Yevgeny’s cries are muffled, most likely coming from another room. Cameron is shouting and so is Mickey, jumbled together in a harsh argument. The first thing he sees is Cameron holding Mickey by the arms, shaking him as the shorter man squirms and kicks and claws at the arms holding him. 

“-ver do anything I say!” Cameron shouts, shaking him harder. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Mickey snarls, looking both defiant and terrified. His face is red, his temple and mouth bleeding. 

“Say that again and I’ll beat the hell out of you!” Cameron threatens, gritting his teeth and throwing Mickey down onto the ground. “And shut that fucking brat up!” 

Yeah, that’s all Ian needs to see. Before he knows it, he has Cameron by the shoulder, twisting him around and slamming his head against his, breaking his nose with a satisfying crack. Cameron cries out, stumbling back and tripping over the coffee table. Ian follows, getting on top of him and connecting his fist with his face, further breaking his nose and possibly a few teeth as he punches again and again and again. 

Blood coats his knuckles and Cameron’s face. Ian’s chest loosens when he notices Cameron has stopped struggling, looking down at the man and smirking when he sees he’s knocked out. God, that felt good. Ian stands up, giving him a few swift kicks to the ribs until something breaks, huffing out a laugh as he backs up. “Been wanting to do that forever.” 

“Clearly…” He looks over his shoulder, finding Mickey standing there with Yevgeny in his arms, shushing the whimpering child. He’s staring at Cameron’s limp form, completely blank in the face. Ian’s heart drops. 

Shit, he could’ve killed him if he kept going. “You okay?” 

“No, not really,” Mickey murmurs, pressing his cheek to the top of his son’s head. Yevgeny quiets down, looking around them as he sucks on his thumb, completely unaware of Cameron on the ground. 

Ian looks down at his hands, flinching at all the blood. Shit, he went crazy. “I gotta call Iggy.” 

Mickey nods slowly. “Yeah…” 

Iggy is home in less than twenty minutes, bringing their cousins to help take care of the unconscious man. Ian washes his hands off, wrapping bandages around his split knuckles. Mickey hasn’t moved from where he'd been standing, watching the others work out what they’re gonna do with Cameron as they move him out to Joey’s truck. Even after he’s out of the house, Mickey doesn’t move, bouncing Yevgeny in his arms gently. 

Svetlana and Mandy return home not long after, rushing inside after seeing the others hauling Cameron into the trunk of Joey’s truck. Svetlana is quick to Mickey’s side, checking over his bruised face and cursing in Russian. Mickey doesn’t react - just stands there without even looking at her. Hell, he’s not looking at anything anymore. 

Mandy takes Yevgeny from him, hushing the child and beginning to try and rock him back to sleep. Svetlana wraps her arms around Mickey, locking eyes with Ian over his shoulder. She nods curtly, brushing her fingers through Mickey’s unkempt hair. Ian smiles weakly in return. 

“We’re gonna dump him back on the Northside,” Iggy says once they finish loading up, lighting a cigarette between his lips. “If I see his face here in the Southside again, I’m going to kill him.” 

“Ditto to that,” Mandy mutters, wiggling her fingers in front of Yevgeny’s face.

“I almost did,” Ian mumbles, moving to sit next to her on the couch. Mandy pats his shoulder, giving him a strained smile. 

Svetlana’s smile is tight, slapping Mickey’s cheek and snapping him out of his trance. He looks around at everyone, taking a deep breath and wiping blood from his chin. He clears his throat, turning away shakily and wobbling off for the bathroom. “I wanna be alone…” 

They watch him leave, hearing the lock click in the bathroom. Mandy sighs, bouncing Yevgeny in her lap. Ian wraps an arm around her shoulders, neither speaking as the truck outside bursts to life and drives off into the night.

It takes a few months for Mickey to get back to his old self - not quite completely there yet, but he’s alive. He’s gotten his build back, albeit a little skinnier than he used to be, but he’s able to do multiple pull-ups again without overworking himself. 

He hitched a job as security again at a local store, the Southside still knowing his reputation even though he disappeared for quite a while. His paycheck is decent enough for Svetlana to finally part ways with the rug-n-tug, taking the role of a stay-at-home mother until she, too, can find a better job. The two have finally found a balance. 

“Mickey!” Svetlana calls from the living room, her accent thick with excitement. “Mickey, come here!” 

Mickey drops what he was doing and jobs into the living room, confused briefly before he sees it - Yevgeny stumbling around on his feet on his own. A smile breaks across his face, laughing at the sight. Mickey never understood why parents flipped their shit whenever their kid crawled or walked or did anything for the first time. It just means they’re finally acting like a functioning human. 

But seeing his kid walk for the first time? Shit, Mickey just might cry. 

Not at the sight itself, but at the fact he was scared he was going to die that night. Seeing Cameron so angry, hitting him and shaking him, throwing him around. He might’ve hurt his kid. Mickey’s heart twists every time he thinks about what would’ve happened to Yevgeny if Ian never showed up. 

He crouches down and holds out his hands to his son, unable to hide his grin. “Come on, kid, come to daddy.” Yevgeny turns and smiles, babbling happily as he stumbles over to Mickey, waving his arms out wildly to try and keep balance. Mickey ignores the fact Svetlana has pulled out her phone, waiting until Yevgeny falls into his hands to pick him up. “Shit, kid! Look at you! Walking! Holy fuck!” 

Svetlana laughs - actually _laughs_ \- walking up and pressing a kiss to both their cheeks. “Baby grow to be strong like you. Hopefully less bitchy.” 

Mickey snorts, elbowing her gently. “Oh, fuck off.” Yevgeny squeals, grabbing onto Mickey’s face and smiling widely. Mickey chuckles. “Guess we did okay, huh? He’s happy.” 

Svetlana hums, looking at their kid softly. “Yes, I suppose. You’re still shit husband.” 

“And you’re still a stubborn bitch,” Mickey retorts. She snorts, rolling her eyes. Mickey kisses the top of Yevgeny’s head, nudging Svetlana with his elbow. “You raised a good kid, though.” 

She ruffles his hair, making him scowl. “Even though I deserve it, don’t give me all credit, shithead.” 

Mickey whacks her hand away, unable to hide his smile. “Whatever.”

“What do you think, kid?” Mickey asks, showing Yevgeny a box of Oreos and a box of chocolate chip cookie dough. “Oreos or chocolate chip?” Yevgeny bounces in his seat, reaching forward and making grabby hands at the Oreos. “Oreos? Glad we agree,” Mickey grins, tossing the box into the cart and setting the dough back on the shelf. 

Yevgeny grabs at his right hand when he grabs the handlebar and starts pushing again, blowing raspberries quietly. Mickey reads over the list again for the tenth time, sighing as he starts looking for the next item. 

“Hey, Mick.” He looks up, finding Ian and Debbie walking down the aisle towards him and Yevgeny. 

“Hey, guys,” he nods his head, leaning against his cart. “How’s it been?” 

“Alright,” Debbie shrugs, moving past him to grab a bunch of cookie dough boxes. “Liam’s having a sleepover with some kids in the neighborhood. Using Frank’s card.” 

Mickey snorts. “Didn’t know he even had a card.” 

“He must’ve lost it ‘cause there’s a couple hundred in there,” Ian grins, waving at Yevgeny with a smile, making the kid babble happily. “Wanna bring Yev over?” 

Mickey laughs a bit, shrugging a shoulder. “He’s only a year old.” 

“So? Liam loves Yev,” Debbie pipes in, dumping the boxes in Mickey’s cart. “We have a couple of one-year-olds coming, so he’ll fit right in.” 

Mickey chews on his lower lip, thinking it over. He looks down at Yevgeny and raises an eyebrow. “What do you think, kid? Want to go to your first sleepover?” Yevgeny’s face splits into a wide smile, waving his hands happily. Mickey grins, looking back at the other two. “Alright, fine. But I’m gonna have to stay, or else Svet will have my ass.” 

Debbie smirks and Ian grins nervously. “Okay, cool cool. We’ll pull a bed out for you.” 

Mickey nods and looks down in his cart, checking the list and shrugging as he starts to head for the front. “Deb, don’t forget your cookies.” 

Debbie elbows Ian roughly in the ribs. He looks at her, holding his side. “What?” She hands him the card, jerking her head in Mickey’s direction with a grin. He blinks, looking at the card and smirking. 

Finally, Frank’s useful for something. 

Mickey did put up a bit of a fight when Ian told him he’d be paying for everything, but in the end, Ian won. He helped take everything home before going back to his house to help Debbie set up with Liam. The little kid is running around in excitement, squealing when the first parent drops their three-year-old daughter off. 

Mickey doesn’t show up until after dinner. He plops Yevgeny down with the other kids, who fawn over him before going back to playing. Liam helps Yevgeny build some block towers. 

“You look tired,” Ian notes with a grin, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. “Svetlana give you shit?” 

“Actin’ like I haven’t taken care of him before,” Mickey huffs in amusement, moving to grab a beer. He pauses in opening it, blinking in confusion for a brief second before he shrugs and opens it. He didn’t enjoy that fearful shudder that went through him. 

Every single kid was out before eleven hits. Mickey has to carefully remove Yevgeny from the cuddle pile, stirring the kid for a moment. He sets him in the foldable crib he brought along due to Svetlana demanding he take it, easing his son back to sleep with a few hushed whispers. Ian turns off the last of the lights, leaving the TV on in case any of the kids wake up during the night. 

Debbie stays downstairs with the kids, settled on the couch and snoring a bit. Mickey chuckles, pulling the blanket over her shoulders before he follows Ian upstairs. “Alright, Firecrotch, where’s my bed?” Ian nods his head over to his own bed, unfolding a few blankets onto the floor. “What? No, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“Bed, Mickey,” Ian looks up at him, gaze amused. 

“Ian-” He cuts off with a yelp when Ian wraps his arms around his waist, tossing him onto the small bed. He sits up sharply, glaring at Ian. “Dick.” 

“G’night,” he grins, tugging off his shirt and jeans. Mickey grumbles, kicking off his shoes and shirt, tossing his shirt onto Ian’s head. The redhead pauses, looking at Mickey with a raised eyebrow. Mickey grins innocently in return. 

Hours tick by and Mickey is having trouble sleeping. Again. Not that he isn’t used to it, but he’s more aware of it now with another person in the room. Specifically, Ian. In Ian’s room. In Ian’s bed. Fuck. 

Mickey can’t lie to himself - he might be falling for him again. Fuck, he never stopped falling, he knows this. Cameron was good at first, distracting him from what he lost, but when things got tough, Ian was there. Ian’s still here. 

He nuzzles deeper into Ian’s pillow, his eyes fluttering open. His eyes have grown used to the dark, able to see the outline of Ian on the floor. He shifts again on the bed, turning onto his back with a sigh. “Can’t sleep?” Ian’s voice pops up, startling Mickey. 

“Shit- uh, you’re awake?” 

Ian props himself up on his elbows, grunting softly. “Yeah. You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Mickey settles back down, rolling onto his side to face Ian again. The redhead tilts his head, looking him over as if he’s studying him. He might be. “The fuck you lookin’ at?” 

He shrugs. “You.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m enjoying the view,” he says, eyes meeting Mickey’s. 

Mickey snorts, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “There’s nothing to look at, Gallagher. And I ain’t stripping.” 

Ian laughs, his expression going soft. “I didn’t ask you to. I’m fine with this view.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes, thankful it’s too dark in the room for Ian to see his cheeks warming up. “Fuckin’ flirt.” Ian just hums in satisfaction, lying back down on his side. Mickey tries closing his eyes, tries to lull himself into some form of sleep because dammit, he’s tired. When he opens his eyes again to glance at the clock, at least twenty minutes have gone by. His skin tingles - that uncomfortable feeling hitting him again. He chews on his lower lip, glancing down at the floor again where Ian lays. “You still awake?” 

He grunts. “Somewhat.” 

“Can I ask for a favor?” Mickey mumbles. “Just- don’t make it weird, okay?” 

Ian lifts his head, blinking the sleep out of his eyes to give Mickey his full attention. “What is it?” 

Mickey struggles to answer for a few moments, trying to find the right wording to make this as un-weird as possible. “Can you lay with me?” 

Not sure if that’s what he wanted to say, but it’s what came out. Ian looks surprised, taking in his words carefully as he nods his head. Mickey nods, not really in relief because he’s tense now. His mind starts swirling as he scoots over, turning his back to Ian so he doesn’t have to see the look of pity or whatever-the-fuck is on his face. 

It’s quiet - the two unsure of where to go from here. It’s not weird, just uncomfortable. Mickey’s skin itches, desperately wanting to be touched. He knows this, but God forbid he tell Ian he wants to fucking cuddle. Cameron turned him into a slut for cuddles, which adds to the list of why Mickey hates Cameron. 

“Mick, you’re shaking,” Ian murmurs from behind him, and Mickey curses internally. 

“I’m just cold,” he covers up weakly. 

Ian chuckles softly in amusement, shifting around behind him. Mickey can’t help but tense up when he feels Ian’s hands slide over his sides, feeling his firm chest press flush against his back. Mickey doesn’t move as Ian nuzzles close, reaching down and pulling the comforter up to their shoulders. His breath hits his ear, feeling the smile on his lips. “This better?” 

Mickey shifts, that itching feeling dying away. He tilts his head back to look at Ian over his shoulder, a shy smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah, a bit.” 

Ian looks down at him softly, making Mickey’s chest flutter rapidly. His pulse jumps when Ian’s hand moves and grabs his hand gently, interlocking their fingers over Mickey’s chest. Ian’s other hand slides up, his fingertips grazing Mickey’s jaw for a moment before pressing firmly, guiding Mickey’s head up and pressing their lips together. 

Mickey’s brain short circuits for a moment, but he doesn’t pull away. He lets out a pleased hum, eyes fluttering shut. Ian presses closer, smiling into the kiss as he runs his fingers through Mickey’s freshly cut hair. Mickey flushes at the intimacy, parting his mouth when he feels Ian’s tongue tease along his lower lip. 

“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes when they part, biting his lip to stop himself from grinning. “Fuck, I missed you.” 

Ian presses another kiss to his lips, leaning his forehead against his with a dopey smile on his face. “I missed you too, Mick.” 

They shift around until they’re facing each other, Mickey’s head tucked under Ian’s jaw, arms looped around his torso. Ian’s arms wrap around his waist, one hand sliding under his shirt to trace patterns along his skin. Mickey swears he feels Ian trace three words he hasn’t said in so long into his skin. His heart aches, the words on the tip of his tongue. Fuck, it’s not like he ever stopped loving the stupid Gallagher. Maybe he could’ve loved Cameron in the future if he didn’t turn out to be such a dick, but Ian always had a place in his heart. 

Ian’s lips brush over his temple, tracing over the scar along his eyebrow. Mickey sighs in content, burying his face deeper into his neck. He doesn’t need to say anything - Ian already knows. 

“She’s fucking _what?!”_ Mickey’s voice travels throughout the Milkovich house, making his son jump. 

Yevgeny points up at him with a non-threatening glare. “Language!” 

Mickey ignores the six-year-old’s hand-on-hip routine he picked up from his mother, stomping through the house for the kitchen. “Mandy!” 

His younger sister looks up in surprise, pausing in her eating at Mickey’s angry voice. “Whatever it is you think I did, it was probably Ian.”

Mickey slams a hand down on the counter. “When were you going to tell me Lip fucking proposed?” 

Mandy turns red, eyes widening in shock. “What- Yevgeny! I told you not to tell anyone!” 

The blonde comes running in, pouting. “I didn’t mean to! It slipped!” 

“You told the six-year-old first?” Mickey says in offense. “What the hell?” 

Mandy waves her hands, smiling sheepishly. Mickey notices the glittering ring on her left hand. “We wanted to tell everyone tonight at dinner. Yev saw my ring and I couldn’t help it! He got so excited.” 

Mickey laughs, rubbing his temple. “I can’t fucking believe this. You’re getting married!” 

Mandy grins, laughing when Mickey tackles her into a one-armed hug. She holds out her hand excitedly to show Mickey, the ring twisting around her finger in an incomplete circle, glittering silver with some sort of gold lining. Mickey doesn’t know Lip’s paycheck, but fuck, it must be huge. 

He’s not surprised, really. The two already bought a house - or, Lip did - and live together. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Still, Mickey can’t help but share Mandy’s excitement, the two taking pictures of them smiling and showing off her ring - and, of course, Yevgeny is in some of those photos. 

“I’m gonna be just like you now, huh?” Mandy smirks, reaching and grabbing Mickey’s left hand. He chuckles as she examines his own ring for the millionth time in the last two years, admiring the simple golden band wrapped around his ring finger. “All married and shit. Might become a housewife like you.” 

“Guess it runs in the family,” Mickey snorts. “Can anyone blame us though? They’re rich as fuck.” 

“Which is funny considering where we all came from,” she hums, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Shit, we’ve come a long way, huh?” 

Mickey hums in agreement, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “Guess we have.” 

A family dinner between the two families is held at Lip and Mandy’s place, announcing their marriage to everyone. All the girls fawn over Mandy’s ring and talk excitedly about the wedding plans while Mickey breaks out the beers and everyone pats Lip on the back for finally proposing. Ian gets excited when Lip asks him to be his best man, tackling his brother in a hug. When Mandy announces she wants Iggy to walk her down the aisle, the eldest Milkovich actually cries for the first time since Mickey’s own wedding, hugging his sister tightly. 

“I can’t believe this,” Ian sighs once they make it to their own home, kicking off his shoes and shaking his head. “About time in my opinion, though.” 

“Agreed,” Mickey grins, tugging off his coat. 

Shit, a lot has happened over the years. 

Terry is still in prison after attempting to kill Mickey right after he got out, landing him in for life. It was sometime after the whole Cameron incident, so yeah, that shook Mickey up to the core. As a result of the life sentence, Mickey bought the house, fixing it up with Ian and Lip’s help to make it more livable. He may not live in it now, but it’s Svetlana and Nika’s home. He makes sure the bills are paid for them even though they can handle themselves. Hey, they may be divorced, but he still loves her in their own special way. He will always take care of her. 

Ian and Mickey are right next door anyway in their own home, making it easier for Yevgeny to sleep in whichever house he desires. Mickey loves his house, which is weird to say in his opinion. It’s small and cozy and just the right amount of space for them. 

Ian proposed to him two years back, doing it in the privacy of their old hideout they visited frequently as teens. Ian promised not to tell anyone, but Mickey cried when Ian pulled out the ring. Mickey’s hidden dream was coming true - he was getting married to the _man_ of his dreams, and nobody was there to stop him. 

“Babe, what’re you thinking about?” Ian murmurs, coming up behind him in the kitchen as Mickey is cleaning up their dishes from this morning, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his ear. Mickey swoons at the nickname. 

“Nothing,” Mickey hums, tilting his head back against his shoulder. He reaches down, interlocking his left hand with his, feeling their rings bump into each other. “Well, maybe one thing.” 

“Oh? Care to tell?” 

Mickey smiles. “I love you.” 

Ian’s face lights up like always, leaning down and kissing Mickey sweetly. He speaks quietly as if this a secret only for them. “I love you too, Mick.” 

They stay just like that, holding one another and swaying gently in their kitchen. Mickey couldn’t ask for anything better - Ian was his, and he was Ian’s. He never thought he’d end up here, but he sure as hell is glad he did.


End file.
